So I've finished my first year at Sci-Arc.  Just that much closer to becoming an architect.  Four more years to go.  It's been worth it, but has taken a real toll on my outside ventures, altered my speech patterns and changed my sense of design; all the things it's supposed to do and perhaps for the better.  Now that summer's here I've got a few months off of school, I'm looking for work to pay my rent over the summer (if anyone knows of anything; pass the word) and last but not least I'm mulling over an idea for a show based on a piece of writing that comes from my own experience.  I haven't put together a show in a while and it's just in my blood so I've got to do it.  This is a very summer show; and I'm looking toward late - mid June.  Bicycle work obviously.  Respond with interest in participating to blind1st@gmail.com as well as any bicycle "massives" that you may know of.

Not too long ago I went on a bicycle massive for the first time ever.  It was my first bicycle "massive" as they were calling it.  I peddled my way through the broken streets of Los Angeles on my shotty self assembled piece of aluminum and wheels, gears slipping because of a maladjusted caliper.  Moving left and right and faster and slower according to the command of the herd.  I had never ridden my bike with a pack of wolves.  But there they were; howling to some disco tune connected to the back of a tag-along baby stroller.  This was a chance trip; it wasn't exactly anarchy, and it wasn't exactly order.  There was a governing system that kept these foolish strangers and myself together, all of it motivated by a simple desire to share company in doing something for the sheer joy of doing it.  In an instant it was clear that riding bicycles throughout the city in flocks isn't about being the fastest, it isn't about identity or belonging, it's not about health and fitness, nor is it about rebelling against vehicular transportation, and it isn't about a political agenda and the who's who and what do you do rigamarole that splits your conversation in two.  We didn't all know each other, we didn't all meet each other, we hardly even organized and we definitely didn't subdivide; we started and stopped and veered around corners toward a destination on a path.  Through this time there was something beautifully unmentionable as we rode and became part of something bigger than we knew; we were being human and animal at the same time, social and physical; better than a rollercoaster and more fun than a punk show.  There's something that happens to people when they agree to move in the same direction and that something grabbed me by the ankles for the 3 hours we spent together.  Me and the guy that lived in Hollywood, holding a burrito in one hand and a Budweiser Enchilada in the other outside of a forgettable convenience store at somewhere around midnight.  And the girl that chose to voice her love of sex to me at a gas station.  The 4 who sped off way ahead of us and met us at the next stop tired as turtles in desert heat - mid winter.  The bulk of us stopping (or not) at the ringing shout of "LIGHT!!!" and turning at "LEFT!!!".  We don't know each other and we don't need to.  We'll see each other again; next time; whenever that is.